The Wrong Offspring
by fireicewriter42
Summary: "Excuse me, barmaid! I'm afraid you brought me the wrong offspring. I ordered an extra large boy with beefy arms, extra guts and glory on the side. This here, this is a talkin' fishbone!" Hiccup is pretty confident he knows what his father thinks of him. But what's really going through Stoick's head? Can they ever connect as a family? Rated T to be safe. I own nothing.
1. All He Had Left

**A/N: So we all know Stoick isn't exactly a model father. He surely improves with time, but I think we give him a little bit of bad rap. After all, his son had just made best friends with the animals that killed his wife. So let's be a little less free with the blame. Here's my version of the first movie and beyond with Stoick and Hiccup learning to be a family again. Lots of father/son fluff and angst. Enjoy!**

* * *

Six months. Six months since the raid. Six months since his wife had been carried off. Six months since he had been left alone with his infant son. Six months since those beasts had robbed him of his most precious possession. Six months since the light of his life had been stolen.

"Stoick?" a cautious voice said behind him. Stoick didn't reply, still staring at the map in front of him.

"Stoick, ye can't keep doing this," Gobber told him gently. "Ye haven't stopped searching long enough to even sleep. How long's it been since ye saw yer son?" Stoick still didn't answer.

"Ye gotta think of him now. Valka...Valka's gone, Stoick," the blacksmith continued. Silence.

"Stoick," Gobber sighed, laying a hand on his chief and friend's shoulder. Stoick turned to look at him angrily. Gobber stepped back, removing his hand.

"She's dead, Stoick," Gobber whispered, "but yer not the only one missin' her. Yer boy, Stoick…"

"Hiccup's fine. The Hoffersons are taking fine care of him. He won't ever remember her," Stoick said gruffly, "but I do. I can't stop looking."

"And if all ye find is a body?" Gobber said softly.

"Then I'll do her the proper funeral rites she deserves," Stoick replied, "but I won't stop looking. Even if I have to kill every dragon in the archipelago with my bare hands. I will end this war. I'll destroy those devils if it's the last thing I do."

"And if you lose what's left of Valka in the process?" Gobber asked. Stoick turned to him in confusion, raising an eyebrow.

"Hiccup is all ye got left o' yer wife. Living proof of yer love. She died trying to protect him. How long's it been since ye held him on yer knee?" Stoick's eyes cast away. "Honor her by putting him first," Gobber told him gently.

"And if the dragons destroy the village in the process? I'm the Chief, I have to protect the village," Stoick argued.

"Protect it, but there's no reason ye can't be a chief and a father at the same time," Gobber replied. Stoick was silent. Gobber turned to leave, but he stopped just at the door of the Great Hall.

"A chief protects his own," he called back to Stoick over his shoulder, "and Hiccup's more your own than anyone else on Berk." Stoick was still, Gobber's words still ringing in his ears. He turned broodingly towards the map. He removed his helmet, rubbing his forehead. Five voyages to Helheim's Gate. Every time, they had been attacked and had to retreat before even making it into the fog. Stoick was confident the nest was beyond the Gate, if they could ever find it. They had lost far too many warriors on the voyages. _A chief protects his own._ Stoick sighed heavily. He continued to stare at the map before standing abruptly. He slammed his helmet back on his head and strode out of the Hall. He walked through the dark village, finding his way to a small house set in the center of town. He knocked on the door.

"Chief!" a young blonde woman smiled as she opened the door. "'Tis good to see you home safe and sound." Stoick nodded graciously. Ingrid Hofferson rested a hand on her large, pregnant belly, opening the door wider for the chief.

"Come in, come in!" Stoick ducked to enter the house.

"Chief, welcome," Hoark Hofferson nodded to him.

"Thank you, Hoark," Stoick nodded back. "I'm sorry it's so late, I just came for my boy."

"Aye, that one," Hoark smiled. "Bundle of energy, he is."

"He took his first steps a week or so ago," Ingrid said softly. "He'll be running around that house of yours in no time." Stoick's heart dropped a little. His son had started walking, and he hadn't been there to see it.

"'Tis been wonderful having him. Good practice for when this little one appears," Ingrid laid a hand on her swollen stomach.

"Does Gothi know when that will be?" Stoick asked politely.

"She says any day now, but it appears this baby has Hoark's stubbornness," Ingrid sighed. "Not to mention the little one likes to move far too much. I haven't had a good night sleep in weeks."

"That stubbornness'll make him a good warrior," Hoark smiled at his wife.

"Or her. I have a feeling on a little lass could cause so much trouble," Ingrid smiled, patting her stomach fondly. Stoick smiled tightly. He remembered well Valka's pregnancy. She had been so scared their little son wouldn't make it. Stoick was confident the boy would make it. He would be strong. Stoick sighed. Gobber was right. Hiccup was all he had left of Valka.

"I'll just go get the lad. He fell asleep just a little while ago," Ingrid waddled into the other room and returned in a moment with a sleepy, brown haired one year old in her arms. Stoick almost gasped. Had it truly been so long that his son was so big? It had only been two months since he had last returned. Why did it feel like Hiccup had changed so much in his absence.

"Look who's here, Hiccup," Ingrid whispered to him. Hiccup blinked up at Stoick, green eyes wide.

"It's your dada, Hiccup," Ingrid told him. Stoick smiled at his son from behind his beard, holding out his arms for his son. Hiccup shrank back against Ingrid. Stoick's heart sank.

"Hiccup," he whispered. "Hiccup, it's me, son. It's your dad," Stoick held out his hands again. Hiccup looked up at him cautiously. Then he held out his arms and let Stoick take him from Ingrid.

"Dada," he murmured sleepily, trying to wrap his tiny arms around Stoick's neck. He buried his face in Stoick's coarse beard. Stoick sighed as he pulled his son close.

"I'm here, son," he whispered. "Let's go home."


	2. Bullies

**A/N: Hey guys! Look at that, a fast update. Maybe I'll actually get on a schedule (in my dreams). Thank you guys so much for the great reviews! I'm super excited about this story. I realized there is a TON of material to cover from before the film, so this is going to be a little longer than I planned.**

 **Crystallion12: Thanks so much for the review! I'm so glad you enjoyed it. Fanfiction is normally my relaxation after a long day, so I'm super excited that my own writing can do that for someone else! :)**

 **LightningAndDeathItself218: Thanks, I try! :) Btw, I love your username, that is awesome. Go Night Furies!**

 **Okay, now on to the story!**

* * *

Stoick sighed as he leaned back in his chair. Complaint day was always a long and hard day. Mildew's second wife was demanding a divorce, despite knowing that wedding vows were unbreakable; Gobber was training a new batch of warriors, one of whom was now at Gothi's hut with severe burns from a Nadder and wanted to start a blood feud with the blacksmith; brothers Bucket and Mulch were fighting over Thor knows what; and to top it off almost half the village had come to complain about the snow. What was he supposed to do about the weather? He groaned and placed an ice block on his throbbing head.

At least Hiccup was doing well. Raising a boy all by himself had not been easy. Hiccup was extremely stubborn, and while he always meant well, he tended to get under foot. _Stubborn like me, smart and curious like his mother. Odin help._ Stoick sighed. But for now, he was working with Stoick's cousin and second in command, Spitelout, on his farm. It kept the lad busy and taught him to have a strong work ethic.

"Come on, you little useless…" a voice shouted from outside. Stoick groaned.

"Village complaint day is over!" he shouted. "Come back tomorrow!"

"Stoick!" the voice shouted. The front door flew open and Stoick groaned again. Spitelout. The one person he didn't want to...he straightened. Spitelout. _Oh no, Hiccup…_

"Spitelout, where's Hiccup?" Stoick asked, standing. Spitelout dragged his arm, pulling a small ten year old boy from behind him.

"Your fishbone _son_ didna tie the gate on ma sheep pen tight enough!" Spitelout shouted angrily. "Ma entire flock is now roamin' the hills, who knows where! It's gonna take all night to get 'em back!" Stoick sighed, looking sharply at his son. Hiccup refused to meet his gaze, staring at his feet.

"More trouble than he's worth, this one! 'E'll no' be workin' at my farm anymore!" Spitelout shouted. "Find someone else to shove him off on, I'll no' have him…"

"Enough, Spitelout," Stoick said firmly, turning his glare on his cousin. "Go find your sheep, I'll deal with the boy."

"Tan his hide, I would, if he were mine," Spitelout glowered at Hiccup. "Completely useless he is…"

"Good night, Spitelout!" Stoick almost shouted. He wouldn't have Spitelout slander his son, especially not to the boy's face. Spitelout shot Hiccup one last glare before storming out, slamming the door behind him. Silence reigned in the house. Stoick sighed, sitting back down.

"Well?" he asked his son.

"Dad, I'm so sorry, I tied the pen as tight I could, I swear," Hiccup glanced up at him desperately. Noticing the glare on Stoick's face, he looked back down at the ground. Stoick fought the urge to sigh again. Hiccup was just a boy, and a very young one at that. He had made a simple mistake, it wasn't the end of the world, no matter what Spitelout said.

"It's alright, Hiccup," Stoick told him. Hiccup looked up at him through his bangs.

"You're...you're not upset?" he asked him cautiously.

"Yes, but I know it was a mistake. One that won't happen again," Stoick looked at him sternly.

"No sir," Hiccup said quickly. Stoick nodded, sighing as he put his ice block back against his forehead.

"I really am sorry, Dad," Hiccup murmured. Stoick cracked one eye open, looking at his boy.

"I know, son," he told him, trying to make his tone more gentle. "It's alright. Head on to bed, now. We'll discuss how you can make it up to Spitelout tomorrow." Hiccup nodded and began to climb up the stairs to the loft. As he moved, Stoick heard him gasp a little in pain.

"Are you alright, Hiccup?" Stoick called over his shoulder.

"Yeah, yes sir, I'm..ahh!" Hiccup gasped, gripping his side.

"Hiccup?" Stoick stood. "Come here, son." Hiccup cautiously came to stand in front of him, wincing slightly.

"What happened?" Stoick asked.

"I...I uh…," Hiccup hesitated. Stoick reached out and pulled Hiccup's tunic up. Bruises riddled his son's torso at various stages of healing.

"Hiccup! What happened?" Stoick demanded, frowning in concern.

"S-S-Snotlout...h-h-he cornered me o-o-outside his barn," Hiccup stuttered softly.

"Your cousin did this to you?" Stoick's glare deepened.

"Yes sir," Hiccup whispered.

"Has this happened before?" Stoick asked. Hiccup nodded, not looking at Stoick.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Stoick frowned, putting a hand under Hiccup's chin. He raised Hiccup's head so he would meet his gaze.

"I…I didn't want to bother you, I know you're busy, and the village…," Hiccup trailed off. Stoick raised his eyebrows. _Half the village comes to me on complaint day, and most are just griping. But Hiccup won't even complain when he's being beaten by his cousin._ Stoick almost smiled.

"Why didn't you fight back?" Stoick kept his hand under Hiccup's chin. Hiccup's eyes dropped.

"He...he's a lot bigger than me, Dad," Hiccup whispered. "It's not so bad when it's just him, but when the Thorston twins are with him…"

"They have been beating you, too?" Stoick demanded. Hiccup swallowed, nodding slightly against Stoick's hand. Stoick frowned deeply. How dare those descendants of half trolls raise a hand against his son! How dare they hurt him! He glanced at his son. The boy refused to meet his eyes. He was probably ashamed to admit he was being bullied. _Strong and stubborn. Just like his mother. She never liked asking for help._

"Come here, son," Stoick said, trying to sound gentle. He led Hiccup over to a cabinet and pulled out a jar. He opened the lid and motioned for Hiccup to raise his tunic. He rubbed a strong smelling herbal cream on Hiccup's bruises. Years of fighting dragons had taught Stoick how to tend to most more superficial wounds. Burns, cuts, bruises, and worse were common during dragon raids.

"Anymore?" Stoick asked as he finished gently rubbing the cream on his son's purple and blue skin. Hiccup shook his head. Stoick closed the lid on the jar and handed it to him.

"Rub more on when they start to ache. That should help some of the pain," Stoick laid a hand on his son's shoulder.

"Thanks, dad," Hiccup glanced up at him. Stoick smiled slightly at him.

"Go on and get some sleep son," Stoick ruffled his hair. "We'll talk more in the morning." Hiccup nodded and climbed up the stairs. He stopped for a minute to peer down at his father. Stoick didn't notice him, but Hiccup noticed the deep scowl on his face. He sighed and climbed up the stairs. Stoick waited until he was sure Hiccup was upstairs, then slammed a helmet on his head. He stormed out of the house, walking towards Spitelout's farm. He pounded on the door angrily. Muffled swearing came from inside.

"Who is it at this hour…" Spitelout shouted.

"Find your flock, Spitelout?" Stoick glared.

"Ma two eldest are out lookin'," Spitelout replied. _Figures he wouldn't look himself,_ Stoick thought.

"What about your youngest, Snotlout?" Stoick asked.

"Fast asleep," Spitelout shrugged. "What are ye doin' here so late?"

"I came to tell you to keep that son of yours away from my boy," Stoick said angrily. "He's been ganging up on Hiccup with the Thorston twins. Poor lad's belly looks like he's been beaten regularly for weeks! I want it stopped, Spitelout!"

"You're bein' overprotective, Chief. Boys will be boys. Sure they'll scrap a little," Spitelout shrugged.

"Three against one isn't a fair fight, Spitelout," Stoick sneered. "Keep him away from Hiccup, or else!"

"Aye, chief," Spitelout answered mockingly. Stoick glared at him and turned away.

* * *

Stoick ate breakfast at the Great Hall, listening to Gobber rave about a new shipment of metal he had bought from Trader Johan.

"So, I heard Hiccup let all of Spitelout's sheep escape," Gobber commented.

"He made a mistake. Spitelout will get over it," Stoick growled.

"So what are you goin' to do with the lad now?" Gobber asked.

"I was thinking of getting him an apprenticeship," Stoick raised an eyebrow at Gobber.

"Always could use more help around the forge," Gobber replied, glancing at Stoick.

"My thoughts exactly." Stoick smiled slightly.

* * *

Hiccup moved through the market, running an errand for his dad. He had just bought enough bread to last them for the next few days and was about to make his way home when he heard his cousin's voice behind him.

"Hey, cuz," Snotlout sneered. "Heard you got in trouble for lettin' all my dad's sheep get away."

"What do you want, Snotlout?" Hiccup groaned.

"Oh nothing from you, Useless," Snotlout shoved him hard. Hiccup fell back against the wall of a house.

"Leave me alone, Snotlout!" Hiccup glared at him.

"Or what?" Snotlout punched him twice in the ribs. Hiccup dropped his bread, crossing his arms over his stomach. Snotlout grabbed his tunic collar, pinning him against the wall.

"My dad yelled at me for over an hour for beating you up," Snotlout sneered. "You tell anyone about this, and I'll do a lot worse to you, _Useless._ " He dropped his cousin and stalked away. Hiccup slowly made his way home.

"Hiccup, there you are," Stoick greeted him. "I have some news. Starting tomorrow, you'll be working with Gobber in the forge as his apprentice."

"That's...that's great, Dad," Hiccup sighed. Stoick raised an eyebrow at him.

"Are you alright, son?" Stoick frowned in concern. Hiccup hesitated.

"Yeah Dad, I'm fine," Hiccup told him. He placed the bread on the table and climbed upstairs. He sat down on his bed with a sigh. _I can't tell him about Snotlout. He was so disappointed in me last time for not defending myself. Not like I really could against Snotlout anyways. But I'm not going to tell him just so he can get mad at me again. I can handle it myself. Might as well not disappoint him anymore than I already do._


	3. Troll Hunting

**A/N: Hey guys! Well, late update as usual. Sorry for that. Mixture of sickness and life has kept me from writing lately. Here's a chapter to tide you over for a while! After this, I'm only one chapter away from the first movie! (I think) Thank you all for the wonderful reviews!**

 **Guest: Thank you so much for the review! For the divorce comment, I was going off one of the new episodes of Race to the Edge, in which Fishlegs mentions marriage being permanent in Berk. But thank you for the input! I don't know much about true Viking culture, so that's really cool! Any more tips would be greatly appreciated.**

 **Rayne Arianna Maranochi: Thanks for the review! Indeed! I'm hoping to show Hiccup fight back more in future chapters, in his own style of course.**

 **And without further ado, on to the story!**

* * *

"Hiccup! Where are ye, lad?" Stoick called out as he entered the house.

"Up here, Dad," Hiccup's voice floated down from upstairs.

"Come on down!" Stoick called.

"Yes sir, just a second!" Hiccup yelled back. He hissed inwardly as he rubbed salve on a particularly painful burn on his right forearm. He had been working in the forge for almost two years now, and while he was nowhere near as clumsy as he had been when he first started, he still came home with burns, bruises, and the occasional cut. He was just too small for some of the jobs Gobber gave him. Not that Hiccup would ever complain. Gobber was one of the few people who he could talk to almost freely, one of the few people who was even remotely kind to him. Although Gobber hadn't been keen on Hiccup being his apprentice after the first few months.

* * *

" _How's Hiccup getting on at the forge, Gobber?" Stoick asked before taking a swig out of his mug._

" _Well...he...he's tryin' real hard, Chief," Gobber told him, not meeting his eyes. Stoick put down his mug._

" _Gobber," he said seriously._

" _Really, Chief, the boy's givin' it his best. It'll just take…"_

" _Gobber."_

" _An' I'm sure it 'twere an accident…"_

" _Gobber!"_

" _Yes, Chief?"_

" _What's he done now?" Stoick sighed. Gobber looked up at him sheepishly._

" _I set him to work sharpenin' some of the swords, and the boy tried real hard, but almost every one of 'em has a crack now," Gobber admitted. Stoick sighed._

" _What am I gonna do with 'im, Gobber?" Stoick rubbed a hand over his face._

" _You're gonna be patient, and let me teach 'im how ta do it right," Gobber replied. " 'E 'as talent, 'e just needs a little more learnin'." Stoick sighed again and nodded. Little did they know that Hiccup was listening just behind them, hidden in the shadows of the pillars of the Great Hall. He glanced down at his boots, biting his lip before turning and running silently back to the Chief's house on the hill._

* * *

Ever since that day, Hiccup had been worked harder than ever in the forge, trying to earn the praise and belief that Gobber invested in him. He even secretly hoped that if he did really well at the forge, Gobber would say something to his father. Hiccup shook his head; that would never happen.

"Hiccup!" Stoick's annoyed voice came up the stairs again.

"Coming, coming!" Hiccup snatched up his satchel, shoving the burn cream into it and running down the stairs. He stumbled down the last few steps, falling to one knee before quickly standing up and straightening his tunic.

"Sorry, I'm ready," Hiccup breathed.

"Good, then let's be off," Stoick nodded. "Got your pole?"

"Um…" Hiccup hesitated. "I think I left it at the forge…" Stoick sighed.

"Hiccup…," He began exasperatedly.

"I'll run and get it, it won't take long!" Hiccup ran out the door.

"Hiccup, I have another…," Stoick called after him but Hiccup was already gone. Stoick sighed. He was taking Hiccup on his first fishing trip. Normally, a father would have taken his son fishing at a much younger age, but Stoick's chiefing duties kept him busier than most. Also, Stoick was finding it harder and harder to connect with his son. The more time he spent with him, the more he realized how different they sighed once more. He grabbed his pack and his pole and walked out, slamming his helmet on his head as he left.

He made his way down to the forge, nodding at villages as they called greetings to him. As he drew near to the forge, he heard Hiccup's young, animated voice talking to his master as Gobber pounded out metal.

"And we could use pulleys to raise them up and down! It would save tons of time during attacks, and would keep someone from having to climb the masts! We'd have to have several people to raise them, but it would take less than half the time!"

"No' half bad, 'Iccup," Gobber mused. "No' half bad! Did ya show ye father?" Stoick drew closer to the forge, peering in to see his son's face. Hiccup was biting his lip and looking down, shaking his head slowly.

"Why no'?" Gobber frowned. " 'E'd be proud o' ya! This could change our entire response time for th' raids."

"He's really busy...I didn't want to bother him with this. He probably wouldn't think it was any good," Hiccup said softly. Gobber stopped his pounding and laid a heavy hand on Hiccup's bony shoulder.

"I know yer father's busy, but 'e cares a lot about ye. Don' ever think otherwise. Ye just haf to get through that rough exterior, and you'll find a sof' spot inside. Ye should show 'im your ideas," Gobber encouraged him. Hiccup nodded hesitantly.

"Aren't ye two goin' fishin' today? Ye should tell 'im then," Gobber told him, beginning his pounding again.

"Tell me what, Gobber?" Stoick interrupted.

"Oh, 'Iccup 'ere has some ideas about…,"

"About when we're leaving, we should go now," Hiccup said quickly. Stoick raised an eyebrow as Gobber rolled his eyes.

"Got your pole?" Stoick asked. Hiccup nodded enthusiastically.

"Well, let's go then," he motioned for Hiccup to follow him, nodding at Gobber. Three hours later, they reached a large salmon stream north of Berk. Stoick showed Hiccup how to bait his hook and cast. Hiccup's first few tries ended in pricked fingers, stuck hooks, and one extraordinarily irritating moment when his hook got stuck in Stoick's beard. Finally, they both got their lines in the water and were waiting in silence for a fish to bite. Hiccup waited, still and patiently for a half an hour, running through designs and ideas in his head. But soon he began to tire of waiting and started fidgeting.

"Hiccup, be still, you'll scare away the fish," Stoick hissed. Hiccup obediently fell still. A few minutes later, he was squirming as a beetle crawled up the sleeve of his tunic.

"Hiccup," Stoick warned.

"Sorry dad," he apologized meekly, batting at his sleeve. Ten minutes later, he was wiggling again.

"Hiccup!" Stoick snapped. Hiccup fell still immediately, looking down at the ground. Stoick sighed, looking down at his son's bowed head. The boy's shaggy hair fell into his eyes, obscuring them from Stoick's view. _I really should cut his hair soon._

"Hiccup, why don't you go set up the camp? Give you a chance to get out your energy," Stoick suggested. Hiccup nodded before quickly running to the hollow they had chosen to camp at. He began to set up the camp, listening to the rustling of the forests. He had just finished gathering firewood when he glanced up at the sky. The sun was beginning to set. _Didn't Gobber say that trolls come out at sunset?_ He thought back to his mentor's stories. He glanced back up at the sun. _I could go look...just for a minute. I won't be gone long._ He started off into the woods, not looking back.

* * *

Stoick paced the campsite irritatedly. He had come back two hours ago to find a half set up camp and no Hiccup. He was growing more worried by the minute. Where had that fool-headed boy of his gone? He knew better than to wander in the woods by himself, particularly this far up. A wild dragon could have found him, or a bear, or a boar. He could have fallen down a cliff, or gotten caught in a dragon trap, or….

"Aarrghh!" Stoick shouted angrily, snatching up his axe. When he found that inane boy of his, he would…

"Dad?" Stoick turned quickly towards the soft murmur, raising his axe.

"Dad, please don't kill me, it's me! It's Hiccup, please!" Hiccup cowered, raising his arms above his head.

"Hiccup!" Stoick dropped the axe to the ground with a quiet thud. He didn't know whether to turn the boy over his knee or hug him till his ribs cracked. In the end, he settled for his usual response.

"What in Thor's name do you think you're doin', lad?" he shouted.

"I...I went...f-f-for a walk...and I g-g-got lost," Hiccup stuttered softly.

"You went for a walk? We walked four hours to get here, lad! Was that not enough for you?" Stoick looked at his son in astonishment.

"I...I was...l-l-looking for…" Hiccup's voice grew softer, his shoulders hunched.

"What? Looking for what?" Stoick demanded.

"Trolls," Hiccup whispered. Stoick gaped at the boy. Hiccup dug his toe into the ground, refusing to meet his father's gaze.

"Let me get this straight...you were out hunting...for trolls?" Stoick asked, his voice dangerously low.

"Y-y-yes sir," Hiccup stuttered. Stoick clenched his fists.

"Hiccup, of all the stupid, idiotic, ridiculous things you have ever done, this has to be the worst!" Hiccup's shoulders slumped more. "Do you have any idea how worried I was? How easily you could have been killed out here? You could have died, and no one would ever have known! Of all the foolhardy, irresponsible...aargh!" Stoick turned away from him angrily as if he couldn't bear the sight of him. When he turned back, Hiccup had seemed to try to make himself as small as possible. He still looked at the ground, but Stoick noticed his bottom lip was quivering. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. _This boy will be the death of me._

"Hiccup, get something to eat and go to sleep. We have a long walk home tomorrow. And don't wander off!" Stoick ordered sharply. Hiccup nodded, moving to grab a small loaf of bread from his pack and crawl into the tent that Stoick had put up while waiting for his son's return. Stoick sat staring into the campfire, pondering what to do with his wayward son. _Just like his mother, that boy is._ Stoick's frown deepened. _What am I going to do with him? He never listens, and when he does it's only to stories and fairytales!_ He shook his head. He would sort it out in the morning. He ducked into the tent and looked down at his sleeping son. Hiccup had tear tracks drying on his face. Stoick felt his heart clench. Maybe he had been a little too hard on the boy. He was still very young...not old enough to fully understand the dangers of the world yet. Nevertheless, it was Stoick's job to teach him. Perhaps Hiccup just need a little more attention than others. He smiled exasperatedly as he lay down beside his son. Hiccup stirred a little. His large green eyes fluttered open and he looked up at Stoick. He cringed a little.

"I'm really sorry, Daddy," he murmured. Stoick half smiled at him.

"I know you are, son," he told him, "but you can't just wander off like that." _You mean far too much to me for me to see you hurt._

"Yes sir," Hiccup nodded, looking down.

"Get some sleep, Hiccup," Stoick told him. Hiccup closed his eyes obediently. An hour later, Stoick was still wide awake, listening to the quiet snores of his son. He peered over at him in the dark. Hiccup shivered under his furs, his tiny body chilled by the night air. Stoick sighed and pulled his son closer, wrapping his arms around him to warm him up. Hiccup moaned a little in his sleep before snuggling closer to his father's warmth. Stoick smiled down at him fondly before falling asleep to the sound of his child's snores.

* * *

Two weeks later the story of Hiccup and his troll hunting had circled the entire village, and Hiccup was being teased more than ever. Stoick and Gobber however, were busy ordering the building of new torches that could be raised by a chain and pulley system. Torches that Hiccup would never admit that he himself designed.

 **A/N: Aaannnndd I'm done! Finally. Hope you guys enjoyed! :D**


	4. Dragon Attack

**A/N: Hi! I'm back, I know it's been forever. Life got crazy. So I recently got dragged kicking and screaming into the Merlin fandom. I will be posting a AU Merlin fanfiction eventually, so please be on the lookout for that guys. But for now, here's a new chapter for the beloved HTTYD.**

 **As always, thank you guys so much for the reviews, please keep them coming! Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

"Dragon attack!" a shout rang out from the town square. "Get to your posts!" Screams filled the air while the smell of burning wood grew stronger and stronger. Hiccup leaped up, eyes wide. He ran down the stairs, darting out the door. Three Monstrous Nightmares circled the village square, taking pot shots at the villages cowering behind shields below. Hiccup swallowed before running towards the forge. He had almost made it when several Deadly Nadder spikes landed dangerously close to his side. He cried out, falling back. He cringed, waiting for a blast of flame or a spike, but it never came. He glanced up. A shield covered him, and a large burly Viking was swinging at the Nadder with a large hammer. The Nadder, seeing it's easy prey was now defended, flew away towards the sheep fields.

"Get up, boy!" the Viking snarled. He hauled Hiccup to his feet. "This is no place for the likes of ye!"

"I...I have to get...to the forge, Gobber…," Hiccup stammered.

"Then go, boy! A dragon attack is no place for cowering babes!" the Viking shoved him toward the forge. Hiccup opened his mouth to retort indignantly, but decided better of it. He raced into the shelter of the forge, panting.

"Eh, not roasted yet, Hiccup?" Gobber asked, rapidly switching his prosthetic hand from a hammer to a pair of tongs.

"Not quite," Hiccup breathed. "What can I do?"

"Axe, sharpened, now," Gobber dropped the massive weapon into his arms. Hiccup staggered under the weight, careful not to touch the blade. He made his way to the whetstone.

"The beasts sure picked a good time to attack," Gobber said ruefully, tossing a sword across the forge counter to waiting Viking. He took the Viking's broken sword and slung it into the scrap metal pile, "what with yer father away at the treaty signing with the Beserkers." Hiccup nodded, even though he knew Gobber couldn't see him. His father always led the defense against the dragons. Hiccup didn't like to admit it, but it made him nervous that his father wasn't here to defend the village. Spitelout, as the chief's right hand, would lead the defense. But he was no Stoick the Vast.

"Zipplebacks! They found the yaks!" a shout rang out through the square. Hiccup's heart dropped to his stomach. "The western side!" Hiccup dragged the sharpened axe back to the counter and shoved it over it to a Viking.

"Stay 'ere, and keep fresh weapons comin'," Gobber instructed, a grim look on his face. He switched his prosthetic to an axe.

"What about the yaks? If the dragons…," Hiccup began. Gobber turned around and grabbed Hiccup's shoulders.

"I'll send the devils packin'," Gobber assured him, smiling a little. Hiccup frowned.

"Stay, and do yer job," Gobber told him firmly. He ran out of the forge with a battle cry. Hiccup swallowed. If the dragons took the yaks, the village wouldn't have enough food for winter. Everyone knew that. The raids made surviving hard enough without the dragons finding the yak herd. Hiccup ran a hand through his hair. Where was his dad when he needed him?

"Boy! Sword, now!" a shieldmaiden shouted at him. Hiccup scrambled to grab a fresh weapon and shoved it at her. No one else came to the forge; they were all on the western side of the village. Hiccup heard screams. _Gobber..._ Hiccup frowned. One day he would be chief. One day these would be his people. If his father wasn't here to defend the village, he had to at least do something. He glanced around the forge hurriedly. He caught up the smallest sword he could find and holding it with both hands ran out of the forge towards the western side.

He stopped in shock when he saw the carnage caused by the dragons. Vikings were clutching burns and scratches while only two dragons had been felled. Several Zipplebacks, two Nadders, and a Nightmare remained. The yaks were running in terror and a few were on fire. Hiccup felt fear grip him. He couldn't move. There was nothing he could do. What could anyone do against…

"Hiccup!" a voice that sounded like Gobber shouted. Hiccup forced himself to turn and look in the direction the voice had come. Gobber was waving his arms frantically, running towards him.

"Hiccup! Behind you!" Hiccup managed to turn just in time to see the Deadly Nadder land in front of him. Hiccup gasped, raising his sword. The Nadder narrowed its eyes at him and opened its mouth.

"Night Fury! Get down!" a shout rang out. Years of hearing that cry spurred his muscles into action and Hiccup curled into a ball. A whistle screamed through the air and something exploded behind Hiccup. Something hard hit the back of his head and everything went black.

* * *

Hiccup woke up with a groan. He was in his room in the loft. He sat up hurriedly when a hand landed on his shoulder.

"Take it easy, boy," Gobber told him gruffly. "Ye took a hard hit to the head."

"What happened?" Hiccup asked softly. Gobber frowned at him.

"Ye left the forge and charged into battle with a too heavy sword and no shield," Gobber told him, raising an eyebrow. Hiccup glanced down at the blanket covering his legs.

"And my head?" he asked.

"The Night Fury destroyed a building behind ye. Bit of wood flew out and clonked ye on the head. Saved yer life from that Nadder though."

"What about the yaks?"

"Half gone. And a third of the sheep." Hiccup's head shot up.

"I didn't know they found the sheep."

"Aye, they did. And with no one at the forge when they did," Gobber gave him a look. Hiccup's heart dropped.

"It was my fault," he murmured. Gobber didn't say anything.

"Just...just get some sleep, lad," he told him softly. "Yer father should be home today." Hiccup winced. He didn't want to think about what his father would say.

* * *

Stoick's ship arrived home late that night. To say the chief had not been pleased would be an understatement. Hiccup's ears were ringing from the loud expression of his displeasure.

"How did I possibly have a son so utterly stupid!" Stoick roared finally, his tirade at an end. Hiccup stared at the ground. Stoick growled and stormed out of the house. Hiccup fought back the tears in his eyes. If his father saw him crying... _What does it matter? He already hates me. He wishes he had a different son. He wishes he wasn't my father._ With that last thought, Hiccup let the tears fall. He climbed up the stairs to his room and crawled into bed, crying himself to sleep.

Meanwhile, Stoick drowned his sorrows in a mug in the Great Hall. Gobber cautiously sat next to him.

"Talked to the boy?" he asked. Stoick scoffed.

"Won't make a difference," Stoick growled. He sighed. "He could have been killed, Gobber. A Night Fury…why would he do something like this?"

"Probably to impress ye. Earn his place in the tribe," Gobber explained. Stoick grunted.

"He's a thirteen year old boy," he protested.

"How old were ye when ye felled yer first dragon?" Gobber pointed out.

"I had training," Stoick refuted. "The boy is not good at anything. He's going to get himself killed."

"'E's a fair hand at the forge," Gobber argued.

"Now. Only took him three years." Stoick shook his head. "Hiccup is never going to be a dragon killer. The boy can barely heft a sword, let alone wield one." Gobber fell silent.

"Make sure, the next raid, he stays in the forge. Or better yet the house. I can't have him making things any worse than they already are," Stoick ordered with a sigh. _And I can't have him getting himself killed._

"Aye, chief," Gobber nodded solemnly.

* * *

The next few days were the worst of Hiccup's life. His father barely acknowledged him. Snotlout and the twins grew more bold in their taunts and torture. Worse, they didn't try to hide their bullying. No one in the village would step in to protect him, and many encouraged them.

"Teach 'im a lesson!" someone called as Snotlout's fist connected with Hiccup's ribs.

"That'll show the useless runt!" someone else jeered as Tuffnut kicked him in the knee.

"Knock some sense in the coward!" When Hiccup finally managed to escape, the villagers were still mocking and scorning him. He fled to the forge, knowing Gobber would at least protect him from the bullies, if not the words of the townsfolk. His master took one look at him and sighed.

"Don't let 'im get to ye, lad," he murmured. "Stay strong, fight back. If not with yer fists, with yer smarts. Don't show 'im they got to ye." He turned back to his work. Hiccup set his jaw. He wouldn't let them get to him. And he wouldn't stop until he proved he could be a Viking, a dragon killer, and not a coward. He dragged a sword to the whetstone and began sharpening it. He frowned over the weapon. One day, he'd show them. He'd show them all.

 **A/N: That's a rap! Okay, NOW, we should be getting into the first movie. *crosses fingers*.**


End file.
